:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

This Sunday marks the beginning of Advent, and I’ve asked Christine Sine, an author and blogger at God Space, one of the best Advent and Lent resources around, to share a guest post about the Advent Season.  She most recently edited a collection of brief devotions for Advent and beyond called Waiting for the Light:

The Christian calendar begins at the end of November, with the season of Advent and our preparation for the coming of the Christ child at Christmas. This season means different things to different people.

For some the season of Advent is just a time to enter into the hype of consumer binging and overindulgence. For those of us who follow Christ, this season is meant to have a different focus. This is the season when we all should await the coming of Christ in quiet expectation.  We don’t just await his coming to us as a baby, we enter into the anticipation of the coming of a Savior who not only brings personal salvation for those who choose to follow him but who will also redeem all creation with love and righteousness. 

This is also the season when we anticipate the coming of a God who brings justice for the poor and freedom for the oppressed and judgment for the oppressors.  For still others it is the remembrance of a child whose birth two thousand years ago radically refocused our world.

Christians of all traditions are discovering the value of taking time in the days that lead up to Christmas to break away from the consumer frenzy of our culture and prepare their hearts and minds for the coming of Christ.  Waiting for the Light is a book that responds to this desire. It is more than a devotional; it is a complete guide to the Advent and Christmas seasons providing liturgies, weekly activities and daily reflections to equip and nourish us throughout the season. Reflections are contributed by bloggers across the globe who love God and love to share their faith with others.

And if you want to spend more time in quiet reflection during this season you may also like to follow along at http://godspace.wordpress.com where we will continue to add new thoughts on the theme Jesus is Coming – What Do We Expect?

I have something surprising, if not shocking to share with you. It’s something so astounding, that you may not even believe me.

Nothing can quite prepare you for this. So I’ll just go ahead and say it:

There are Christians who love Jesus, serve Jesus, and are even saved by Jesus who… disagree with me.

I know, I know, that is shocking news for you. I sometimes find it hard to believe some days.

There are divisions in the church that separate the sheep from the goats, but these divisions don’t necessarily lead to breaks in our fellowship with one another—even if these divisions take issue with my awesome perspective…

If you’ve read my book Coffeehouse Theology, you know that I’m a firm advocate for dialogue with other Christian perspectives. In fact, the diversity of Christian views available makes the Christian faith stronger in today’s context.

Over the past year I’ve given a lot of time to thinking over redemptive approaches to others, and I think division itself can play a somewhat redemptive function, provided we know when to unite.

My grandparents used to have this huge German Shepherd. They loved that dog, but it growled at the grandkids. Every time we came over, the dog was relocated upstairs. We were divided on our views and experiences of the dog, but for the sake of visiting with each other, the dog was hustled upstairs and locked away.

There are some issues in Christianity today where we have sharp disagreements, and so far as I can tell, we’ll always be divided to a certain degree. We can play around with our word choice here, but I think the word “divided” is in the only way I can honestly describe the nature of some debates.

I’ve seen some Christians do admirable work at fostering dialogue and understanding. There is real value to such dialogue, but I’m curious whether each side enters dialogue thinking, “If I just expressed my views perfectly, those other dummies will change their minds.”

There simply are issues where Christians both love Jesus and remain divided. In most cases that come to mind, civil dialogue won’t bring us to a place where many on either side will change their minds.

Our divisions are real, but we don’t have to let them consume us.

Our divisions are real, but they don’t have to cut us off from one another.

Our divisions are real, but we can actually remain united in spite of them.

For the foreseeable future, I don’t see myself attending a church where women aren’t allowed to teach. I will continue to acknowledge spiritual gifts and healings. I can’t imagine ever again tying the Republican party to my Christian faith. I don’t see the point in trying to ban same sex marriage, but I know I’m not as progressive on this issue as many of my left-leaning friends.

Those are just a few of the issues where I differ from some other Christians that I know. These are issues that “divide” us on one level, but I don’t have to let them get in the way of what actually unites us.

Let’s face it, we’re going to hang on to different theologies, support different cases, and attend different churches. The solution isn’t getting everyone on the same page, and sometimes the solution isn’t always dialogue.

Christian unity does not come from our heads. Unity isn’t a list of bullet points. Unity comes from the life of God’s Spirit within us. Our fights and divisions can’t undo the presence of God among his people.

However, we can decide that our issues and divisions are more important than God’s Spirit. We can fail to recognize the means by which God has made us one—sabotaging his uniting work among us in spite of our divisions.

If someone is good enough for God’s dwelling Spirit, then who am I say I’m too good, too right, or too “just” to have fellowship? How could I ever think I have higher standards than God? 

He was a no name assistant on a team full high profile talent. His superiors were household names throughout town. They were the people everyone talked about and looked up to.

One devastating day, this no name member of the team saw one of his superiors commit a horrible crime. Usually the witness of a crime calls the police. These isn’t much to debate here. However, he didn’t reach for a telephone. He thought too much, and we’re left to speculate on what went through his mind…

If he called the police, there would be a scandal. The lowly assistant would receive criticism as a whistle blower. There would be allegations made, the superior would most likely deny them, and who knows what would happen in the midst of a trial. It was his word against the word of a superior. Who would believe him?

To make matters worse, he would most likely be fired or marginalized. Who would hire a whistleblower who didn’t know his place?

What should a lowly, assistant do if he wants to protect himself?

There are easy ways out and half measures available, and he opted for that route. He followed the kind of procedures you’d observe when dealing with financial indiscretions, not a major crime. He reported the crime to his superiors, and they followed the same strategy of doing something without doing enough.

In the process, the no name assistant was able to take some kind of action without appearing disloyal. He told his other superiors without causing a national scandal. He protected himself. Who doesn’t want to protect himself?

Selfishness shines through in this story. It is a cancer that prevents us from seeing the world through the eyes of others, the victims and the weak. Selfishness seeks to ensure our own safety and security above the well-being of others. It asks, “What’s right for me?” regardless of the consequences to others.

I confess that I often want to protect myself, to preserve my own comfort at the expense of others. I don’t like the thought of taking a stand and alienating myself among the people I like.

It never feels good to be alienated or rejected by your own people, to lose colleagues because you don’t see eye to eye on ethical matters, let alone a crime. So, instead of being rejected by my own tribe, I look for half-measures, easy ways out that can preserve a shred of my integrity without offending “good people.”

Jesus tells us to love our enemies.

The prophets demand that we pay our workers fair wages.

God tells us that he hates injustice.

I read these words and look for easy ways out. I don’t want to choose a path that is too costly. I look for half-measures. I don’t want to be the whistleblower who challenges the rest of my team.

It’s all so clear when the story involves sex abuse and a college football team, but when it comes down to my views on war, the policies I protest, the shopping decisions I make, the ways I donate money, etc… the lines become murky again.

Should they?

It may help to remember that ten or twenty years from now, we’ll all look back at our lives and begin to ask ourselves, “Did I choose the right course or did I only try to protect myself?” With the benefit of hindsight, we’ll see the fruit that comes from our decisions. We’ll see whether we benefited from self-preservation or from serving and preserving others.

May God give us the courage to protect those who are vulnerable and abused.

If you love human drama, you may be hard-pressed to find a better source than a writers conference. They’re usually held in fairly sterile, ho-hum convention environments, but within those walls are people who have dreams, ideas, and hopes.

There are the hunters, the hunted, the frustrated, the naïve, and the insanely hopeful. Editors and agents keep a low profile in corners with their bottles of water until a timid author ambles up to them and asks a few questions that sometimes take tragic turns.

Other times an agent is clearly on the way to the bathroom and an overly zealous prospective author seizes that precise moment to waylay the agent with a brilliant, unique idea. I can almost hear the author saying it now:

“It’s going to be a memoir about MY LIFE. It’s going to AMAZING!!!”

My sense is that the heartbreak outweighs the fulfillment for most at writing conferences. We all can’t get a big book deal. No agent or editor can pick out the best new book idea. In fact, one agent said he would not have acquired the best-selling book Heaven Is for Real if the author had brought it to him.

Can you see what kind of drama we’re dealing with here?

I want to speak directly to writers, and really, to anyone with an idea or a dream.

I know that most of us writers and creative folks sulk into these conferences with nerves on edge. We’re afraid that our dreams are about to be dashed to the ground.

It’s kind of like Jr. High again: “What if nobody likes me, and they make fun of my idea?”

I get that. You really don’t want to make the “anecdotes” at a literary agent’s future conference talk. You don’t want to be that crazy writer the agents laugh about behind closed doors.

So here’s my advice to writers when you go to a conference:

Get Perspective: Writers Have Power

Editors need authors with great ideas that will sell as books. They need you. Authors have a lot of power. Yes, we don’t get paid until an editor gives us the thumbs up, but you’re attending a writing conference as an equal in the sense that you are critically important to the book production process. The main difference is the amount of experience you have.

Keep an Open Mind

If you don’t want to be that crazy writer, go to a conference with an open mind. Refine your book’s 1-2 sentence pitch, and ask every expert and author you can find for feedback. Prune the crazy out before you’re pitching a full book or proposal.

Learn and Refine

Don’t stop refining your craft and proposal. Even if you think your proposal is perfect, keep an open mind. You book may not fully take shape until the sixth round of major revisions.

Don’t Be Afraid of Unique Ideas

The tension of every editor and agent is they want something unique and fresh without being too… unique—since readers won’t know what to do with it. In most cases an agent or editor will know if your idea will work, but there are notable exceptions.

If you can find a wide range of positive feedback for your ideas, don’t fear the thumbs down that editors and agents may give you. Sometimes you need to wait for the right person who has the same vision for your idea.

Tap Into the Source of Your Power

This last bit of advice is for Christian writers. Author and keynote speaker Angela Hunt mentioned that Christians already have a calling as followers of Jesus, and therefore our writing is directed by our pursuit of him and his Kingdom. I love the freedom found in that statement.

Christian writers only need to worry about communicating what God has placed on our hearts. If God wants us to reach people with our writing, he’ll give us the ability to share his message.

If you’re worried about the message of your book, trust it with God. However, avoiding an agent on his/her way to the bathroom is up to you.

Over the weekend our kitchen was full of bowls with hacked up apples, huge pots boiling with water, a food mill, and rows of quart jars. The promise of homemade applesauce for the long winter prompted us to spend the bulk of our Sunday hard at work in our kitchen scrubbing, cutting, boiling, and ladling.

I like to play the part of the menial slave who just focuses on one big project: washing the apples, cutting the apples, etc. My wife is far better suited for the supervision and “big picture” part of canning. She’s good at reading recipes and devising a plan.

I’ve never been good at following recipes. I usually forget something. Knowing this tendency, I could stand in front of a cook book for hours trying to make sure I got it right. If I was in charge of making the applesauce by myself, there’s a chance I could still be standing in front of the cookbook today.

When you’re canning something, you need to follow the instructions carefully to ensure everything stays sterile and that you cook your fruit/vegetables enough. The instructions are important, but the nourishment comes from putting them into practice and making something. No actions, no applesauce, no matter how well I think I understand the instructions. In fact, the instructions aren’t doing me much good without the applesauce they’re supposed to produce.

Theology often needs more applesauce.

That is to say, if theology provides us some critical instructions and guidelines relating to the nature of God, they’re only useful to the point that we actually meet the God we learn about. Our nourishment is knowing God and doing his will—it’s like eating a warm loaf of bread.

For all of my pouting about following recipes, the irony is that I often prefer just reading theology over putting it into practice. I’m malnourished because I miss out on God’s sustaining presence. If I’m not producing fruit that will last—or fruit that is “preserved”—there’s a chance that I’ve put too much value on learning “about” God rather than living “with” God.

Recipes are useful for pointing us in the right direction. We need good recipes just like we need good theology, but if the recipes don’t lead to something substantial and life-changing, we’re probably just starving ourselves.

These two men were responsible. They had business to take care of, and they were not idle in addressing it. One was fixing his nets along the shore of Galilee, the other had to take care of his father’s burial.

Culturally speaking, the man tasked with burying his father was especially living in careful observance of the law. He was in the right place, doing what mattered.

The difference between the two men came when Jesus called, saying, “Follow me.” This wasn’t something that could be delayed. Jesus literally wanted them to drop what they were doing and to reorient their lives around him.

One man knew when to stop, dropping the lower priorities for the person who mattered most.

The other man asked for time so that he could wrap up his obligations and still follow Jesus.

Learning how to stop is difficult, especially when you think you’re doing everything right. Other priorities can interfere when the most important call comes to us.

Can we stop?

Are we cultivating practices that help us stop daily to hear God’s voice?

Are we ready to stop and respond when the call comes?

One of the most disconcerting phrases in the Bible may be, “We rejoice in our sufferings.” How in the world could a sane person ever arrive at the conclusion that suffering is something to celebrate?

Even worse, we’re guaranteed troubles, trials, persecution, and other forms of suffering in this world. Something in the back of our minds may tell us this is the case, but it doesn’t help to read that right in the Bible.

In other words, the Bible assures us that trouble is coming. Then, once trouble comes, it assures us that we can rejoice in the midst of it. How does someone arrive at this point? In fact, should we even desire to reach this point?

Discipleship is all about the process where God reshapes us into people with his priorities. We become committed to manifesting his Kingdom in this world and detached from the desire to build our own kingdoms. Instead of building faulty structures for our own security and comfort, the Kingdom sends us out. Before we’re willing to leave our faulty buildings behind, we need to be changed.

Left to our own devices we’ll opt to stay put, to compromise the calling of discipleship. People untouched by the power of God have not been conformed into his image. They will steer clear of anything that could lead to suffering or persecution. They have their own kingdoms to worry about.

We’d never take the risks of discipleship without God’s power in our lives that makes us holy and renews our minds. This process of being conformed into God’s image is why holiness is so critically important for disciples.

As we learn to value holiness, we’ll realize that suffering is a sign that this world is passing away, that God’s Kingdom is our only hope. Suffering helps us see the world from God’s perspective.

Suffering reminds us that our little kingdoms are weak and flimsy. God is present in the midst of our suffering, preparing us for the day when all tears shall be wiped away and our joy will be made complete.

I confessed to my wife last night that I’m a hockey fundamentalist. There’s something so wonderful about the game itself that I don’t see a need to tack on anything extra to “jazz” it up. Here’s an example:

I watched a Columbus Blue Jackets game last night and I saw them score a goal for the first time (yes, it’s been a long 3 weeks). Now, I’m no lover of the loud fog horn they blast at some arenas or that stupid, annoying song that Chicago plays whenever they score a goal, but Columbus merely begins their celebrations by firing a canon. No, that’s not quite gimmicky enough. They tack on a live rock band and cheerleaders.

Cheer leaders in hockey?

Blasphemy.

I longed for the old days of the lame old organ. Yes, I’m a hockey fundamentalist.

I suppose Columbus can keep their rock band, but these gimmicks do say something about the way we add more stuff to things that are already pretty good. More is better and interesting. Take the Amazon Kindle Fire.

It’s not enough to be able to read books on a device. They integrate all kinds of apps that you can use. On the one hand, that is really convenient. On the other hand, the possibilities for distraction are endless. The more we add, the more we jeopardize our attention and discipline.

A Kindle Fire does not lead directly to distraction. It’s not a matter of cause. We’re simply placing ourselves in a position to be distracted. Sometimes the best thing we can do is limit ourselves, place boundaries around our lives, and give out attention wholly to one thing.

There is something wonderfully freeing about being able to focus on one thing, becoming consumed in the observations and lessons of a moment. That alone is my reason for using a journal every day.

My journal goes to church, to bed, and to work with me. I have it at the breakfast table and even tote it along on a car ride if I anticipate some free time. It provides a very simple way to sit and reflect on one thing, following it to wherever it may lead me.

There is no temptation to check e-mail, to tweet a bad pun, or to read the news. My attention is wholly given to the task of jotting down what’s on my mind. This simple discipline is incredibly useful for spiritual growth.

Once God plants a seed in my mind, it has room to grow and flourish in my journal. A simple sentence may spread roots as deep as two pages. Life-changing lessons have developed strong and fruitful in the greenhouse of my journal.

Multi-use devices such as iPads, Kindles, and Nooks have their place for sure. However, as we embrace new technology and tools, we need to be honest about what they lack and what we lose if we switch over to them exclusively.

The pen and notebook are innovations from the past as well. As we gained the ability to write, we stopped developing our memories. It’s not like I’m preserving some kind of golden age in my journal.

My journal provides a way to keep my life simple and focused in a world that thrives on distractions, speed, and endless options. Journaling is a conscious choice to pursue a path that enables me to focus on reflecting or meditating.

After writing in my journal, my mind is sharper and focused, and my ideas and lessons are safely entrusted into a safe place. With my ideas secure, I’m free to power up my computer and watch another hockey game.

Some days I feel like Paul is that big brother I never could match. I see him as the kind of guy who was always picked first for sports, topped the honors charts in school, and quickly rose to the top of his company. He worked tirelessly, also knowing what to do next.

When mocking a church obsessed with credentials, Paul rolls out a list of accomplishments that include being shipwrecked, imprisoned, and nearly beaten to death for the sake of the Gospel. What have I got? How about an atheist writing a cross comment on Facebook?

I’m not even close to matching Paul, the super-missionary, apostle extraordinaire who wrote the Bible—well, at least the part of the Bible that folks like me read the most. Wink. Wink. To make things worse, Paul mocked people who called themselves super-apostles.

Paul is so awesome that he can mock people who think they’re more awesome than him…

Paul brings up a very real tension for us in the Christian life. The pace of his ministry was furious. He was a true overachiever. There are plenty of reasons why evangelicals in America love Paul, but one reason may be his indomitable work ethic. If there was ever a “git ‘er done” guy in the Bible, it was Paul.

There are other traditions in Christianity besides “git ‘er done,” fast-paced ministry that globe trots from one ministry to another. There are other paces we read about in the Bible. Jesus spent the first thirty years of his life working as a carpenter or doing whatever people in Nazareth and Galilee were up to back then. Even Paul, that tireless worker, took a bunch of years to get his head on straight in the wilderness.

What did he do?

Those quiet years intrigue me. For all our obsession with being “busy” with ministry, there is a tension at play where solitude and leading a quiet life emerge as viable options for either a season or at least a lifetime.

Paul and his fast-paced ministry have become so normal and ideal in my conception of Christianity, that I forget the rest of the examples in the Bible about staying put, leading a quiet life, and winning people over through a gentle holiness.

There are different callings for different people, at different seasons in their lives. There were times when Paul had to stay put and times when he had to roam from one city to another. Some Christians were called to serve in their cities as elders, while others stayed in lonely places where only the willing sought them out.

We don’t have a blueprint for Christianity. What happens is we gravitate toward the characters and lifestyles in the Bible that make the most sense to us. Along the way, we miss the point that God directed people in a wide variety of directions.

American Christians like me long to be busy—busy just like Paul. I forget that Paul looked at all of his accomplishments and counted them as foolish rubbish, counting only the love of Christ as his treasure. May God give us eyes to see the riches that he has called us to in relationship with him.

May we get over Paul and into the love of Christ.

Have you ever become frustrated by the Bible? Sometimes the commands of Paul set me on edge.

He writes to the Ephesians, “be renewed in the attitude your minds.” Fine, I’m all for that. My mind is feeling a bit stale these days. How exactly should I go about that?

It’s tempting to read these verses and to think it’s all up to me. However, the bigger picture of holiness presented by Paul and throughout the Bible actually takes quite a bit of pressure off us.

The power to become like Jesus comes from his indwelling Spirit. However, are we really off the hook completely? I mean, we dare not insert our own works into the equation?

This is where Protestants can especially struggle since we’re so “salvation by works-averse.” The power is 100% from God, but we can neglect it. I’m not in any way capable of powering my chop saw, but I need to plug it in to the power source and keep it there if I want to cut anything.

The word that Jesus used to describe this process was “abiding.” The abiding is our work. It’s what we have to do if we want to become holy and renewed in our minds. A branch can’t grow any fruit on its own, but it needs to remain connected to the vine in order to grow grapes. The nutrients come up through the vine as the branch stays connected.

Our abiding work tends to put us at odds with our fast-paced culture that values multi-tasking and increased efficiency. Dare I suggest that our culture doesn’t really know what it is to “abide.” It seems lazy or wasteful. The heroes know how to squeeze every last ounce of productivity out of their time, money, and even other people. Those who know how to abide are an anomaly.

The examples of abiding in scripture are sometimes quite extreme to our eyes:

• Moses spending 40 days on the mountain.
• Joshua remaining in the tabernacle long after Moses had left.
• Samuel sleeping in the tent of the Lord.
• Anna fasting and praying night and day for her entire life.
• John the Baptist spending his adult years in the seclusion of the wilderness.
• Paul wandering in the wilderness by himself before beginning his ministry.
• Jesus praying for an entire evening.

Why would all of these founders of our faith spend so much time in solitude, away from productive ministry and work? What is the value of this time?

The connection is this:

• Without 40 days on the mountain, Moses fails to lead the people to the Jordan River.
• Without those evenings in the tabernacle, Josh falters when he leads the people into the Promised Land.
• Without those nights in the tent of the Lord, Samuel can’t hear God speak to him.
• Without fasting and prayer, Anna misses the Messiah and the message God gave to her.
• Without wandering in the wilderness, John and Paul can’t hear the message God wants them to share.
• Jesus modeled this for us. It’s striking to think that even God incarnate set aside time to hear the voice of God. It’s like a Trinitarian brain teaser.

Do I honestly believe I can imitate Jesus effectively by praying less than he did?

If I’m ever frustrated by my lack of progress with holiness, one of the first places to begin is the work of abiding. I can’t explain what happens when God gets ahold of us or how he “makes” us holy or renews our minds. We have models who have gone before us who suggest that this is the only way to be changed.